


The Rabbit Died

by distant_rose



Series: Little Pirates [14]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a happy ending?, Child Death, Discussion of Abortion, F/M, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 15:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11466246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distant_rose/pseuds/distant_rose
Summary: Sometimes the good guys win but not everyone gets a happy ending. After a child dies in Emma's arms during a violent call, Emma shuts down and Killian discovers there was a lot more at stake than he originally thought. (Tumblr prompt)





	The Rabbit Died

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous tumblr prompt: "I know this is scaling back your series like thirteen? (Christ Harrison is like thirteen now. Omfg) years but I really want to know how Emma and Killian found out about the first baby pirate Harrison" Guys, please note if you want to send me a request/prompt, I don't write chronologically so you can request them at any age within reason. I may or may not put at cap maximum age being 18-19. 
> 
> Anyway, getting all that out of the way. Killian finding out about Harrison is a very angsty story. If you wanted a happy pregnancy reveal story, you picked the wrong kid. Harrison’s origin story is kinda horrible. This takes place three months after the finale. Please note that this angst-ridden ridiculousness has a lot of disturbing themes including child death and abortion. However, I mean this is at the way beginning. Like arguably this is the beginning of the Little Pirates timeline, so as angsty as this is, there is light at the end of the tunnel. 
> 
> Questions, comments or concerns - feel free to bug me over on Tumblr @ distant-rose.tumblr.com.

There were some days when the good guys won but not everyone got a happy ending. Those were the hardest for Emma, who had been prophesied since birth to be the Savior, and had been told it was her duty to save everyone and bring back the happy endings. Today was one of those days.

For once the tragedy of the day wasn’t because magic or anything fairytale related at all, but a tragic tale of a broken family where one unhinged father discovered he wasn’t a father at all and decided the best course of action was to hunt down his wife and her children.

Killian had shot the husband when he had turned his weapon on Emma, saving ten-year old Ana Maria and eight-year old Dante but they couldn’t save the wife nor her six-year old son Oscar. The wife had been found shot in the back of the head in the residence. He and Emma had arrived too late for Oscar who had been suffering from a gunshot wound to the stomach. Emma sat with the boy as they had called for an ambulance, holding her hand against the wound in hopes of stopping the flow despite the blood pouring out between her fingers and pooling onto her jeans. She had held him close, whispering how it was going to be okay despite the fact that both Killian and Emma knew it was far from okay. Oscar had died before the paramedics had arrived and Emma had cradled his body close to hers, running her hands through his dark hair and tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

Killian had known that there was nothing he could do or say to make it better. He had felt this in his bones. He had tried to comfort her in a physical way, reaching for her hand and trying to put an arm around her shoulders. She had shrugged off both attempts so Killian let her be. David, who helped answer the call with them since they were having dinner together at Emma’s parents’ place, hadn’t gotten the memo, trying to tell Emma it wasn’t her fault or how “no team bats a thousand” - whatever the bloody hell that meant. Emma had just nodded absently in response, blood still covering her hands and mascara leaving trails under her eyes; David’s words hadn’t even penetrated the surface. She was lost somewhere dark in her head, beyond their reach.

When they arrived home, Emma immediately went upstairs and straight into the bathroom. Killian tried to follow her but she locked the door behind her. The locked door between them felt to Killian almost like a physical punch. He understood why she did it, that she needed a moment to herself after such a trying day, but Killian could not help wondering if locked doors this early into their marriage was a bad omen. Through the door, Killian heard his wife turn on the shower. While he knew she was probably rubbing her skin raw to clean away Oscar’s blood, he wondered if she had decided on the shower to cover up the fact she was finally breaking down about Oscar’s death.

Killian sighed, rubbing his palm over his eyes for a moment before stepping away from the door and heading back downstairs. He was no use to anyone, especially Emma, just standing outside their bathroom. He immediately went into the kitchen, coming to the firm decision that making hot chocolate would be the best course of action. It wouldn’t change things and it wouldn’t bring Oscar back, but he hoped it would help somewhat calm her turbulent emotions.

To help pass the time, Killian had decided to make real hot chocolate instead of the powdered instant that Emma seemed to prefer. Not long after Killian had moved into the house, Henry had gone off on a tangent him about the merits of “real hot chocolate” made by saucer with “actual milk” rather than microwaved water and packet. In a fit of desperation to get Emma’s boy to like him more, Killian had asked Snow to teach him to create the confection. (Little had he known this had entirely been the boy’s aim all along. “Mom, doesn’t even bother to try because she actually legit burns water when she even attempts to make pasta. The only thing she knows how to make is pancakes. So you were kinda my only hope, Obi-Wan.”)

It took him an extraordinary amount of time to make the hot chocolate due to the temperamental tendencies of their kitchen stove, but once he had finished making the drink and had added all the necessary embellishments (he had learned long ago that hot chocolate without whipped cream and cinnamon was a sin in this house), he was able to make his way back up the stairs.

The bathroom door was open by the time he had finished his ascent and he found his wife dressed in her pajamas and his black bathrobe which she had long since commandeered as her own, laying on top of their bed. Her blonde hair, still wet, laid around her like some sort of wild halo on their pillows. She was staring up at the ceiling with eyes, still red, and her hands resting on top of her stomach.

Killian watched her for a moment, leaning against the doorway while cradling the mug of hot chocolate in his hand. He looked her with a mixture of concern and anxiousness, waiting for her to speak but when she didn’t acknowledge his presence, he sighed.

“Swan, love, I brought you something…” His voice sounded weak even to his own ears.

Emma didn’t respond. She continued stare up at the ceiling and this time Killian noticed that the hands resting on her abdomen were shaking. He placed the mug down on the dresser closest to the door and ran his hand through his hair, wondering if he should call for reinforcements in the form of his mother-in-law and his stepson.

“Emma…”

“I should have saved him…” Emma whispered, her voice hoarse. It confirmed what Killian had already known; she had spent a great deal of time crying in his absence.

“Emma, you can’t do that to yourself, love…” Killian said as gently he could.

Once again, Emma didn’t respond and Killian could see her lips now trembling. He watched as her bottom teeth appeared and bit into her top lip for a moment, perhaps in a desperation attempt to keep her emotions lynch-pinned away.

“My magic,” she said quietly as if that explained everything. “I should have healed him. If my magic had been working, I would have been able to save him. Oscar would be alive right now, if my magic wasn’t so fucked up.”

Killian frowned deeply. He had nearly forgotten about Emma’s magic; it hadn’t even been on the radar in the horror show that was the night. However, he wasn’t even aware she was having issues with it. He tried extremely hard not to be irritated with her lack of communication with him on this behalf. It just felt like another thing that his wife didn’t trust him with. She didn’t trust him to comfort her after a trying situation and she didn’t trust him to tell him she was having trouble with her magic. Some husband he was.

“What’s going on with your magic, love?” Killian asked, trying to keep his voice calm and neutral.

This time Emma was visibly shaking with her entire body as if she was wracked with silent sobs, but he saw no tears leave her eyes, though they looked rather misty.

“Killian…” The way her voice sounded broke him. “Killian, I’m pregnant.”

When she said the words, Killian felt as if he had been separated from his body. Emma was still speaking, he could see her lips moving but he couldn’t hear her. It was as if the entire world had faded away in that moment and he was left in some sort of purgatory state that had no sound, smell, feel or taste.

He and Emma had a five second conversation on children before they had gotten married. Killian had made it clear that he would follow Emma’s lead on whatever she had wanted in that department; being married to her was more than enough for him and anything else was just bonus. Emma had decided that she wasn’t willing to make a decision on the subject until after they were married for a few years. “I want you all to myself before I make any decision on whether I want to share you with anyone else,” she had said. Killian had always assumed this was code for Emma did not want any more children and was too afraid to say so in case Killian had any urgings on the subject.

Killian had accepted the idea that he would never be a father. He had always expected that the Jones line would end with him. His lifestyle up until recently had not been conducive to siring and raising children, though he had briefly entertained the idea of raising Baefire when Milah had been alive, though Bae had been beyond his formative years by then. And sure, he now had a stepson in Henry, but the boy was nearly grown, almost a man in his own right, and there was very little parenting to be done on Killian’s end.

However, at the same time, it wasn’t as if Killian had imagined what parenthood would be like for him. Occasionally a blonde haired, blue eyed little girl had flittered across his mind’s eye and he had thought on what it would be like to pick her up and have her snuggle against his chest or what it would be like to teach her to tie knots. Some of his occasional thoughts danced with the idea of having a little one to sit on his hip while he sailed the Jolly that he could whisper sailing lessons to. These had been nothing more than flights of fancy though and he had often banished from his mind as quickly as they had been formed in his head because he had been certain that Emma did not want any more kids and dwelling on something that could never be was something he knew could result in great unhappiness.

Yet, here they were; three months married and apparently pregnant.

“Killian, please say something.”

Emma’s voice seemed to act like some sort of tether to reality and he was suddenly snapped back into his body where he was faced with a maelstrom of emotions he was by no means prepared to deal with. It seemed like every emotion that he had ever felt in his entire body had been pushed inside of him and he was ready to explode.

“Killian…”

The one of the most prominent emotions, and it nearly scared him how prominent it was, was a crowing primitive sense of male satisfaction that somehow hadn’t been fulfilled before (and the fact that it hadn’t been disturbed him on a many level.) It was a possessive essence that was thrilled with the concept that something that was his was now growing inside his wife and really enjoyed the idea of using the term ‘his’ on multiple levels. This child, unborn as it was, would tie them together in a way that could not be broken. Emma could divorce him at any time, but this child would always bind them.

“Killian…please…”

Aside from this absurd masculine pleasure, he also felt an intense amount of fear. Pan had once called him a one-handed pirate with a drinking problem and never had there been a painfully more accurate description in his life. Killian was more than aware that he was being held together by duct tape (an absurdly useful item Killian was coming to realize), sheer stubborn determination and Emma’s unwavering support. He could barely keep himself afloat as it was, how was he supposed to care for a child? With one hand? His hook wasn’t necessarily child friendly either. One thing became abundantly clear the more he thought about it - he was not at all equipped nor ready to handle a child.

“Killian…you’re scaring me…”

The next most emotion that seemed to possess him at the moment was anger and it surprised him how angry he was. Emma had known she was pregnant when they had received the call that there had been a shooting at the Hoya residence. She had known and had decided to respond to the call anyway, endangering both herself and the unborn child inside of her. A gun on been pointed at her head. He could have lost them both and he wouldn’t have even understood the magnitude of his loss. His babe had barely begun to exist and its life had already been threatened.

“KILLIAN!” Emma barked sharply.

He blinked in surprise, glancing over at her with a slightly startled expression. She looked annoyed; more like his wife who had a spine made of steel rather than the trembling mess she had been since they had taken Oscar’s body away. 

“I literally have been talking for five minutes and you’ve literally been in zombie mode or something. Did you even hear a word that I said?” she asked between clenched teeth.

Killian bypassed the question for one of his own.

“How long have you known? How?” It was the first question that popped into his head that he knew didn’t have the immediate possibility of starting a fight.

“Only a couple of days,” she responded, eyes focused on hands resting on top of her still flat stomach. “My magic has been on the fritz for a few weeks so I went to talk to Regina on Sunday when I dropped off Henry and she had this crazy theory that I was pregnant and that my magic has to fight with the baby’s magic since I’m technically the host of both at the moment. She was so insistent that I wanted to prove her wrong. So, we got a test and I took it and it was positive…”the rabbit died” in her words. Whatever that means.”

“You took a test with Regina?” Killian could not help but feel irritation at that. This was his child, not Regina’s. Regina had known about the babe before he did. He knew he was being irrational, but it rubbed him raw. She had no business being involved in this.

“Yeah…” Emma rose her eyebrows at him as if silently asking if he was touched in the head.

“You took a test with Regina and found out you were pregnant on Sunday and it’s now Thursday, no, excuse me, it’s Friday morning and I’m now just finding out. Why didn’t you tell me?” He tried extremely hard not to seem demanding, but his growing anger with her crept in.

“Killian, I wanted to wrap my head around it. I wanted to understand exactly how I felt about it before adding your feelings to the mix,” she responded defensively.

This time he didn’t even bother to hide his ire.

“Well, I think it’s pretty clear how you feel about the child considering that you went in guns blazing into a hostile situation tonight and endangered both yourself and the baby in the process.” 

As words left his mouth, she looked at him like he crossed the room and slapped her. He watched a play of emotions dance across her face before she settled into what he could only describe as misguided indignation. She sat up on the bed, fingers twisted into the comforter as she stared him down.

“Killian Jones, don’t you dare use this pregnancy to take away my job from me. I will not be barefoot and pregnant the entirely of this marriage and if that’s what you’re looking for…then you need to leave.”

Killian’s jaw dropped and he sputtered angrily. Where the hell had that come from? He had been expressing his anger towards her careless endangerment of their unborn child and herself. No where in his line of question had he ever mentioned a determination to have Emma “barefoot and pregnant.”

“Gods above, where did you hear me say that nonsense? I never said you couldn’t do your job, Emma, and not once have I ever implied I was going to chain you to the house and fill your belly with babies. I didn’t even think you wanted any. I had agreed to anything you wanted, that bullshit waiting game. But waiting is over. Pardon the pun, but the ship has sailed. That child exists and it’s not just your life you’re being careless with anymore. I’m all for you being Sheriff, Emma, because it’s a part of who you are, but what about keeping the child safe?”

“Safe?” Emma let out a laugh that held no joy and made Killian’s insides cold. “Safe doesn’t exist. This kid will never be safe. The second some maniac gets a whiff of his existence, I guarantee you we will be up to our elbows in magical fairytale fucking nonsense and at least a dozen witches, three demigods and two evil scientists who will want to steal this kid to fulfill their plans of world domination. He might as well get used to it now. Fuck, I will be lucky if someone doesn’t speed up this pregnancy.”

“Maybe, but we will protect the chi”- “Like we protected Oscar today?” Emma asked him sharply, interrupting him. “Like my parents protected me growing up? Like they protected Neal from Zelena? Like we protected Gideon from the Black Fairy? The track record in protecting infants from evil is far from the best. This kid already has magic, Killian, and it’s fucking with mine. How long do you think we’ll have? Honestly?”

“That’s not fair, Emma,” Killian said softly, because it was the only thing he could say when his heart felt like breaking. He had always imagined that if Emma had ever told him she was with child, that it would be one of the best days of his life, and so far, it was shaping out to be one of the worst.

“No, it’s not, but that’s reality for us. We fucked up.”

She then turned away from him, grabbing a pillow and curling herself around it. Again, he felt the move like a physical blow.

Killian closed his eyes, clenching his fists and summoning up all of his inner strength. For the first time since they had been married, Killian felt the need to make a wall around himself, around his heart, because he couldn’t see way for this conversation to end without everything he was possibly crumbing to pieces. He prepared himself for the worse.

“Then, what do we do, love…?” he asked in a voice barely whisper. He could hear his own voice wavering in his ears.

“I don’t know,” she responded just as quietly. “I don’t know, Killian. The world is not a kind place. It’s scary, hurtful, dangerous and completely unfair whether it’s dealing with the Final Battle or some asshole who thinks it’s okay to shoot small children who can’t control who their parents are. I mean, look at us. I was in the foster care system. I was alone most of my life and I got the shit kicked out of me more than once in both literally and metaphorical ways. More times than I can count really. And you? You were enslaved, Killian, by your own father. You’ve been tortured more times than I care to know. You are covered in scars. The tattoos do a brilliant job hiding it, but babe, I can feel them. And that’s just our childhoods. The last few years? Pan? Hades? Hyde? The Black Fairy? They called it the Final Battle, but Killian, I’m waiting for the atom bomb to drop and this kid is going to be in the first in the line of fire. I don’t want that for my kid. Our kid. Some days, I’m amazed Henry is still even here…”

She was right. It hurt how much she was right. The logic behind her own words was undeniable and it all led to a conclusion that personally repulsed him and made him want to howl with rage, but seemed like the most rational thing to do.

“Do..we…Swan…do we…should we…” He couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

She finished the question for him.

“Should we end it?” 

Emma had always braver and stronger than him, so it didn’t surprise him that she was able to say what made everything inside of him scream; horrified by the concept. Killian didn’t have issue with abortion; he had encouraged more than a few of the female friends he had made over the years to consider the option. However, the idea of destroying something that was part his blood and part Emma’s made him want to die.

She looked at him over her shoulder and she looked nearly as heartbroken as he felt. She tilted her head, asking silently for clarification with her; making sure that was the question he had meant to ask. He gave a stiff nod, grimacing as he did so.

“I don’t know,” she said, closing her eyes against the flood of oncoming tears. “I mean, it’s rational. We’re so new. A lot of stuff has happened. A lot of stuff will most definitely happen. Neither of us are in the right state of mind to even think about being parents, but…I don’t think I can do it. I couldn’t with Henry and I hated Neal more than life itself when I found about about him. I really don’t want to, I’m already attached. I felt guilty about calling him an it so I’ve been calling him, well, him…”

“You think it’s a boy…?” Killian asked, swallowing.

“I think it’s a beautiful disaster that I’m already in love with but at the same time, I’m fucking terrified…of him…for him…just all around petrified to bring this child into this mess. He doesn’t deserve to be born in world like this,” she answered honestly.

Killian couldn’t stand the distance between them anymore. He shed his vest, his brace and his socks, placing them carelessly on the floor next to the dresser before joining Emma on the bed. He curled himself around her, untying the bathrobe that had once been his and placing his hand on top of hers on her abdomen.

“You’re right, the babe deserves better, but that doesn’t mean we can’t…that we can’t try…You said that we don’t have good record at defending children from harm, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t tip the scales, that we can’t try…and sure, it’s scary but…I would rather try than admit defeat. If anyone can succeed, I would like to think it would be us…We’ve beaten incredible odds before…” he murmured against her neck.

“You want it, huh?” she whispered. One of her hands moved and found his, weaving their fingers together. Her thumb brushed lovingly over his.

“I am the last man on earth who should be reproducing. Pan was a demon but he had been very adapt in his description of me - a one-handed pirate with a drinking problem. I’ve got more sins than virtues and I’m woefully unprepared to raise a child. And you’re right, there’s always something going on, our life is chaotic and unpredictable, and there seems to be more disasters than quiet moments, but yes, despite all the reasons that I shouldn’t, I want it. Well, him.”

“So you think it’s boy, huh?” Emma asked in a watery laugh.

Killian squeezed her hand impossibly hard in response. He didn’t know how else to express his feelings without exploding.

“Well, it’s your gut, Swan. If you think it’s a boy and you’re calling him a him, then you’re probably right. Your intuition is never wrong, love, and I’d be a fool to bet against you. That doesn’t mean I would be opposed to a girl with your blonde hair and freckles…”

“I can’t believe this is happening…”

“If it makes you feel better, love, I can’t either. It’s scary, but we’ll figured it out. We always do.”

“Yeah…” Her head fell back against his shoulder and she turned it so that her nose brushed against the hollow of his neck. “I’m so tired…”

“It’s been a day, love. A long, emotional day,” he said, placing a kiss on her temple. He wrinkled his nose a bit as he caught a few strands of hair in his mouth. “You should sleep.”

He moved them so that they were laying on their sides, tossing the bathrobe carelessly over the side of the bed. Begrudgingly, he maneuvered Emma so that she was laying under the covers before sliding beneath the sheets as well. He placed his hand back on her lower belly, his thumb running mindlessly circles over her soft flesh.

“You’re not going sneak downstairs and have a nip if I nod off, are you?” she asked sleepily, trying to fight off her dropping eyelids.

“No, love, I’m staying right here,” he responded, placing another kiss on her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” she murmured before allowing her eyes to shut.


End file.
